


you may fall from the sky, you may fall from a tree, but the best way to fall is in love with me

by orphan_account



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-04
Updated: 2017-08-04
Packaged: 2018-12-11 03:47:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11706165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: due to a freak thunderstorm, jeremy and michael get lost in the woods, somewhere in new jersey and they're never gonna make it back alive((actual forest au belongs to @reptilianraven / @actualbird on tumblr))





	you may fall from the sky, you may fall from a tree, but the best way to fall is in love with me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [reptilianraven](https://archiveofourown.org/users/reptilianraven/gifts).



> thank u to bird for letting me write this!! if you wanna know more about this au and what this fic will be exploring, check out bird's hcs on it: http://actualbird.tumblr.com/tagged/actual-forest-au
> 
> anyway, ao3 is confusing to me and idk how to bold and italisize shit, so have this unedited block of text while i figure this site out  
> (ill probably come back to edit this later anyway, bcause its lmost 2 am and i'm definately gonna regret this later)
> 
> ((ON HIATUS BC IM AN UNINSPIRED FUCK))

humming slightly, jeremy smiled, the sunlight filtering through the trees in a random yet weirdly pretty pattern, spots of bright light dancing on the soft, mossy floor of the forest. michael sighed, head in his hands and a red flush decorating his cheeks. god, jeremy looked so pretty.

shit, that sounded gay.

well, he was gay, and his jacket sported a pretty rainbow patch to prove it, but he couldn’t have himself sounding gay in front of his crush slash very, very attractive best friend.

did he mention he was gay for one Jeremy heere? ‘cause that was definitely important, because him being gay for his definitely straight friend is semi important to his character, because he would do anything for jeremy, because Jeremy was his sun and his moon, his day and his night, his crush who was a fucking furry and tree fucker.

“hey, bird brain, you there?” jeremy jokingly knocked his knuckes against michael’s forehead, causing said orthinologist to fall on his ass in the mud. he glared half-heartedly at the botanist, his anger dissipating almost immediately with the bright, clear laughter coming from jeremy heere’s mouth. god, what a cutie.

laughing a bit himself, michael stuck his tounge out at jeremy, at which the boy poked it back in. he groaned. “asshole.” jeremy giggled. micheal’s heart stopped beating for a moment. “okay, i’m done for today, let’s get back inside before it-“

a light drizzle came, thunder and lightning sounding out in the distance. “-rains.”

“fuck.” michael pulled his hood up, frantically waving Jeremy in the direction of the shack. “it’s this way-fuck! wrong direction! this wa-“ Jeremy, though soaked to the bone, shot him a glare. “you know what, I’m useless at directions, lead the way, monsieur tree fucker.” jeremy groaned. “shut up and help me, bird brain.”

eventually, after about ten minutes of arguing and wrong turns and getting soaked to the bone, they found the shack, fully drenched and out of power, and despite jeremy’s protests (“fine, if you get electrocuted, im gonna….not come to your funeral! ha!”), michael flicked the light switch on and off, groaning as the only thing it yielded was a brief flicker of brightness, then, nothing.

“no power, bitcheees.” michael said, flopping onto the floor. the shack that they used for their research was tiny, hardly something you could call a home. it’s walls were painted a beautiful shade of light mustard color, and it’s hardwood floors stained with all sorts of shit. crammed into one corner was a small mini fridge (“jeremy!” michael had gasped offendedly, as they first brough their research equipment here. “how could we not have a mini fridge! we need soda to survive!”) and a small paraffin heater. pushed against the wall, directly against the ‘kitchen’, was their makeshift living room, which consisted of two semi-dirty bean bags that smelled like day-old cheetos and mountain dew, and a tiny, tiny tv that could only play shitty teleseryes and old disney movies. against the wall laid a poorly constructed ikea desk, buried under heaps of paper and moss and all sorts of shit. 

he opens his dying phone, opening the text messenger as a last ditch effort to try and get help. the shack was literally in the middle of a forest, so there was little to no signal, especially in a storm like this, but michael had to try.

**to: valentine  
> bih im stuck in a fcukin,,,,,rainstorm with jer can you like, ride your bicycle or whtever heere and save us**

****

from: chloe.valentine  
> first off, it’s a motorcycle, second, good luck asshole im not going out in the middle of a rainstorm to save your boyf’s skinny ass lol

michael flushed a dark red, already typing out a retaliation to chloe, but his computer died mid-type. he groaned in frustration, flopping onto one of the beanbags. “looks like we’re stuck here-hah, heere-‘till the storm’s gone.”

inside, he wanted to die. spending the night? in a small shack? with no heater or lights? with his crush?

this night really couldn’t get any worse.


End file.
